


Two Americans in Paris

by SmackTheDevil



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Gay, M/M, Musician Jensen Ackles, Musicians, Paris (City), Passion, Period Typical Attitudes, Promiscuity, Rimming, Romance, Smoking, Student Jared Padalecki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28771104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmackTheDevil/pseuds/SmackTheDevil
Summary: Jensen Ackles is an accomplished jazz musician with a residency at the exclusive  'Le Trompettiste' nightclub in Paris, France. The musician is openly gay, enjoying all the delights that the romantic city has to offer, namely beautiful men on tap.Although Jensen never struggles with loneliness, his heart is forever wanting so when a pretty preppy student walks into the nightclub like a lost babe in the woods, Jensen is instantly beguiled by the young man but with a colorful and promiscuous past which often comes back to haunt him, can Jensen persuade Jared Padalecki to give him a chance?
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 26
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

Jensen Ackles had toured and traveled up and down the East and the West coasts of the USA, exhausting every club who would let him play and gradually finding himself become tired of the lifestyle. A residency was just the kind of gig he had been looking for and even with two well-received albums under his belt, in the US it was hard to find but lady luck came in many guises. A call came in from a club in Paris as word had got out that the jazz musician was looking to settle down. ‘Le Trompettiste’ offered him a year long residency and an apartment overlooking the most romantic city in the world. Jensen took it without stopping to breath before he said yes. 

It was 1960 and musically the world had been gripped by rock ‘n roll, all the world except for Jensen and the discerning few who adored jazz, who loved nothing better than sitting in smokey, dimly lit clubs listening to sultry tunes sung until the wee small hours of the morning. Jensen had always loved music from the moment he was old to move to the rhythm of the soft, slow standards his mother liked to listen to on the wireless. Mr. Ackles played the piano at their local church and was competent enough to teach his son the basics but Jensen wanted more and fell in love with the trumpet before he was ten years-old. Music took him in favor of academia and Jensen ran with his talent, he was the cool cat at high school. The heartthrob who could seduce with music, talent and his soft baritone voice. The moment he was married and brought two children into the world, Jensen was gone. Still married, still a father of sorts and still the kind of man to wire money home but also the kind of man who had jazz in his soul. Jensen left and never went home, touring the US with his band of musical vagabonds which lead to his latest relocation to Paris, France.

Jensen played at ‘Le Trompettiste’ four nights a week, his popularity knew no bounds and the club was the perfect place for him; it was packed to the proverbial rafters every night and within those ‘rafters’ were wall to wall men. Jensen had no idea how the tales of his sexuality had reached Europe but he was glad that his lack of subtlety perhaps was the reason the manager, Jacques had contacted him all of those months ago. Six months of non-stop music, culture, beautiful men on tap and the chance to get to grips with the language. Jensen understood much about the world, in another life he could have been an academic genius but the music took him and so he became a genius in that instead. It was no secret, Jensen’s lifestyle and in Paris he was able to live it quite openly. His landlady didn’t think twice when her tenant brought home handsome sailors, poets and painters at 2AM. No one batted an eyelid when he sat outside fashionable cafés with his latest squeeze, flirting over strong coffee and shared cigarettes. And within the walls of the club, Jensen dedicated beautiful songs to pretty boys then took them to his dressing room to prove just how they pretty they were. For Jensen, it was the perfect life. If only he could fill that sliver of emptiness in his heart that he woke with every day.

*

After three raucous nights of playing at the club and enjoying what he could of the Paris nightlife, Jensen always welcomed the chilled out and relaxed vibe that Sunday’s offered. He still played but to a quieter audience taking stock of a hedonistic weekend. The mood was wound down and those there to listen to Jensen play, expected nothing more from him but music to send them dream-like into the working week. The high-octane sets Jensen sweat through on Friday and Saturday nights were replaced with calm and often melancholic tunes, lamenting the start of the normality of work and life. Sunday’s were also the ideal day for Jensen to find a companion to see him through to Thursday, no one could accuse the musician of ever being lonely; even if those romances were brief and forgotten come the following weekend. During breaks when Jensen would hand over to his band, he would frequent the bar. Eying up newcomers or reconnecting with a lover he had made love to in Autumn.

After a slow, hazy rendition of ‘April In Paris’, Jensen took his first break of the night, setting his trumpet at the foot of his stool and leaving the small stage to the sound of lazy but well-meant applause. Jensen nodded at the bartender then leaned over the bar to grab a rag to wipe his face, the lights over the stage were always too hot and harsh for such a small space. Jensen had complained about it several times to the manager but he was always fobbed off with how the audience shouldn’t be denied a clear view of Jensen’s perfect face. Easing his ass onto a stool, Jensen lit a cigarette and half caught a conversation between the doorman and a young guy who was flashing his passport at him by way of proof of age. Jensen cocked his head to one side, intrigued as the young man was eventually permitted entry because he looked nothing like the patrons Jensen was used to seeing inside the club. In fact, the more he watched the guy, the more interested and oddly confused Jensen became. For the life of him, Jensen couldn’t figure the boy out. He _was_ a boy, not a man as Jensen had first thought. Young but extremely tall with a pretty face and slanted eyes under unfashionably long hair. American definitely, despite the staid English style clothes, Southern probably if the fading tan skin was anything to go by. The boy stood by the bar, head ducked as he ordered himself a simple soda and lime, changing his mind after a brief glance about the club and requesting a shot of vodka. Jensen sipped on his neat dark rum and lifted his glass in welcome as the boy’s eyes fell over him.

“You’re American.” Jensen yelled over the music, leaning across the bar, arms stretched out against the surface.

“How did you guess?” The boy chuckled, shoving a handful of Francs into his coat pocket.

“You speak excellent French, baby but I can hear your accent in your voice.” Jensen grinned, unwrapping his fingers from around his glass and offering his hand. “I’m Jensen.”

“Jared.” The young man chuckled. “And I know who you are.” He said, shaking Jensen’s hand and slowly moving around the curved wooden bar.

“My reputation precedes me, does it?” Jensen smirked.

“I have your records. You’re real popular in England.”

“Oh, I see. So that’s why you’re dressed so stiff an’ preppy, huh?” Jensen teased, flicking at Jared’s soft wool university scarf with his fingers.

Uh-” Jared frowned but allowed himself to laugh because Jensen was twinkling at him. “-I guess. I was studying there, I needed a coat and scarf for the Winter. I guess I assimilated and now I regret it.” He laughed.

“It’s cute. I like it. So, you studyin’ here now, huh?”

“Hm.” Jared nodded. “Until Fall, then I go home. I don’t want to.”

“You like Paris?”

“I love it.” Jared nodded, taking a sip from his drink and pulling a face while Jensen just observed him intently. Jared looked nervous, as if he had been building up to wander into ‘Le Trompettiste’ for a long while and had finally plucked up the courage to do so.

“You like men too?” Jensen said, casually flicking ash into an ashtray.

“Um.” Jared nodded and attempted to hide behind an overlong sip of his vodka and soda.

“Come to the right place. Jazz and men, it doesn’t get much better than this. You stayin’ for my next set?”

“Yeah.” 

“Cool. I should get back, gotta blow. Stick around, baby. I’d like to get to know you better.” Jensen grinned around the rim of his glass and knocked his rum back like the pro drinker he was.

“Alright.” 

“Take a seat and I’ll see you later.” Jensen winked, smoothly sliding off the stool and weaving his way through the tables and back to the stage. Outwardly, he looked like the ‘Greek God of Jazz’. Inwardly, Jared had fired him up like it was Saturday night.


	2. Chapter 2

Jensen stepped up onto the stage, taking a few moments to chat to his band members, changing one song or the whole set entirely wasn’t unusual for the musician and one of the reasons he loved his band so much was because of their nonchalance at going along with any last minutes alterations to the set list. They rolled with the punches and all three of them enjoyed the occasional spontaneity. As Jensen turned around, wiping the mouthpiece of his trumpet, he noticed that Jared was sitting at a table in front of the stage looking slightly uncomfortable. Despite the bright lights above, there were no footlights which meant that Jensen had a dead on view of the young man. Jensen was more than pleased that he had decided to change the first song of his second set. Frank, Jensen’s pianist started to play the short, soft intro to ‘Flamenco Sketches’ as the trumpeter stepped to the edge of the stage, looking down at Jared with dark eyes. Jensen licked his lips and begun to play, eyes wandering across the club because Jared instantly proved to be too much of a distraction.

For Jensen, music to him was an extension of his soul and once puberty had hit him and the realization of his then damning sexuality, it became an extension of that too. Music was life, love and sex. It was all the good parts of everything. Jensen manipulated it to fit into every aspect of his life and personality. In an interview with the US magazine ‘The Jazz Player’, Jensen admitted that without music he would have little else going for him and that music defined his very soul. ‘ _No other musician puts themselves so wholly out-there like I do_ ’, he said to the interviewer of the notoriously forthright publication. When questioned about the claim that music was all he was about and that his handsome face and tall stature was something his female fans adored, Jensen replied ‘ _I love all of my fans, but women are of little consequence to me_ ’. That comment had been taken as Jensen meaning that his wife was his world but those in the know knew differently. ‘ _I might look the way I do, but trust me, no one would want to sleep with me without the music_.’ 

In between breaks, Jensen would look down at Jared who was sans coat and showing a little of what he had going on under his clothes. The crisp white ‘teen-beat’ short sleeved button down was too small for him and held his biceps tightly and was probably something his mother had bought him before he had left for Europe. Jared’s pants were unfashionably too high around his waist which was slender, even when sitting down Jensen could tell that the young man was big but wiry, more than enough to lay his hands over. Jensen had chosen a song with no words because sometimes he didn’t need them to convey his intentions when flirting with a man from under the stage lights. It felt like a super power because all Jensen had to do was feel the music and use his eyes to seduce. Jared felt different, he hadn’t come to the club to be seduced or propositioned like most of the men who passed through. Jared wanted the music and perhaps to be around an all-male environment for the first time. The club _was_ sex though, it always had been and Jensen’s presence had deepened the reputation. Physically, artistically and sexually, Jensen was catch of the day but the tables had turned because he knew that he was going to have to work for Jared. And strangely, he wanted to. The sliver of emptiness in his heart had latched onto Jared because the boy wasn’t like other men. Jensen could see that already and he was ready for the thrill of the chase.  
Jared did well to keep eye contact whenever Jensen’s eyes fell over him, he squirmed and Jensen could see sweat forming around the boys temples and neck; even after a brief conversation and some eye-fucking from stage to floor, Jensen could feel the chemistry bubble between them. And it wasn’t unusual for Jensen to find himself aroused on stage, the music often did that if his mood was right but Jared seemed to turn him on by merely existing. By doing nothing more than walking gingerly into the club and ordering a drink so banal then being coerced into an instantly flirtatious conversation, Jared had switched Jensen’s body and heart on in an instant. Jensen decided that he _had_ to have him while he played a long ten minutes of sultry ‘fuck me’ jazz with the boy sat at his feet and the way Jared gazed up at him, Jensen felt like a God.

*

Jensen was crackling with need as the set finished and handed the stage over to the only female singer to ever grace the club and stepped down to join Jared at his table.

“Did you enjoy the song?” Jensen said, waving at the bartender to bring his post-set rum.

“I did. I know it, at least I know that it was originally Miles Davis.”  
“Good, you know your jazz.” Jensen said, eyes falling over Jared’s bare arms. “You look naked without that ridiculous coat.” He smirked.

“I bet you’d like that.” Jared chuckled, sipping on his drink and still not used to the taste. 

“You bet right, baby. Say, why don’t you stick around ‘til the end. You could come back to my apartment, I have a beautiful view. They look after me very well in Paris.” Jensen grinned.

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Jensen.” Jared said, shaking his head and lifting himself up awkwardly in his chair. 

“Okay, that’s fair. What does it take to seduce hot little piece of ass like you then?” 

“Wow, not being called a ‘hot piece of ass’ for one.” Jared rolled his eyes.

“Traditional.” Jensen nodded, smiling up at the bartender who set two glasses and a quarter bottle of dark rum on the table. “So, can I take you out on a date?”

“Maybe.” Jared said coyly, watching as Jensen poured out two measures of rum into the glasses. “I don’t like dark spirits.”

“You pull a face each time you sip your vodka and soda, I’d say you don’t like clear spirits either.” Jensen smirked. “You’ll like this, it’s sweeter.” He said, sliding the glass across the table.

“Does every man you try to seduce get this treatment?”

“No.” 

“Hm. You have a reputation here.”

“So you said. And funny, I _do_ know. I don’t do subtle.” Jensen smirked, flicking a finger against Jared’s untouched glass.

“I noticed.” Jared muttered, clearing his throat.

“Oh yes, _that_. That was for you.” Jensen smirked.

“You’re unbelievable.” Jared chuckled lightly, giving in and taking a slow sip of the rum which although strong, was also quite sweet too.

“It’s a biological reaction and because people are people, the only ones who ever comment on it, are the ones who want it.” Jensen tapped a cigarette against the surface of the table. “Do you want my dick, Jared?”

“Jesus, I haven’t met anyone like you before.”

“And I doubt you will again, baby.” Jensen smirked around his cigarette as he lit it. “So, the lost babe in the woods wants a date. I can do that.”

“Can you?” Jared said skeptically. “Alright then but you have to make a promise.”

“Go on.” Jensen nodded.

“No other men. Just me. I’m not sleeping with you until I want to. And even then, I’m not making promises.”

“Deal.” Jensen nodded, sealing it with a tap of his glass against Jared’s. “I’ll take you out for lunch on Wednesday, how does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect.” 

“Fuck, well done.” Jensen chuckled. 

“Why ‘well done’?” Jared asked, wincing slightly at Jensen’s unfiltered foul mouth.

“I’ve never been on a date before. I don’t do dates, you must be something extra special.” 

“Something.” Jared echoed. “You might need to switch around your sweet-talking too.” He smirked.

“Nah, that’s never going to happen.” Jensen winked.


	3. Chapter 3

Early Spring in Paris was pretty, Winter had left echoes; a soft chill in the air which rustled through the leafless trees, speckled with green promises. Jensen rarely ventured anywhere further than the walk from his apartment to ‘Le Trompettiste’, it was all that he needed. A roof with a bed underneath to lay his head and satisfy his needs and access to play the music that defined him. Once in a while he would take a conquest out for breakfast since his larder was rarely full and the entertainment he had to offer was never centered around food but Jensen’s life was as simple as it was complicated. Ever striving for human contact and never feeling entirely satisfied when he got what he wanted, all because of the sliver of loneliness that never truly went away.

Jared was wrapped up against the last chills of Winter in his wool scarf and very English looking duffle coat as he watched Jensen wander casually along the street from outside the café then cross the road and grin broadly. Jared waved and tugged at his scarf, a little self-conscious that he looked too ‘preppy’ for Jensen’s taste, but he needn’t have worried.

“The daylight becomes you.” Jensen said, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth. “You have incredibly pretty eyes. I might have to write a song about them.”

“Thank you.” Jared blushed. “I like your album when you sing.”

“I have a standard voice.” Jensen said modestly, waving the comment away.

“I didn’t know you wrote your own music.”

“I do. Music yes, although I struggle with the words. They are two very different skills and I seem to excel in only one.”

“You’re poetic in life. You were on Sunday. You should channel that energy.” 

“Hm, advice from the boy. Tell me, what is it you study?”

“Literature.” Jared smirked and Jensen laughed heartily. 

“Well, color me corrected. Shall we?” Jensen said, taking a step forward and holding the door open for Jared. Doors were only generally given attention from Jensen when slamming a naked body into them, opening them like a gentleman was an entirely new concept.

“Thank you.” Jared smiled, removing his scarf as they stepped into the steamy warmth of the café. “I’ve acquired quite a taste for Parisian coffee, I’ve been here before.”

“It is very good and partly why I chose it for our lunch date.” Jensen smirked.

“Only partly?”

“My apartment is across the road.”

“Oh.” Jared laughed, shaking his head. “Not today, not this weekend. Maybe not until there are leaves on the trees again.”

“Morals. I feel like I had forgotten what they are.”

*

The unlikely couple drank coffee until they were buzzing and filled up on sweet pastries to soak it all up. Jared was a passionate talker and where Jensen was used to leading conversations, he was quite happy to listen to the young man whom he discovered had come from Texas, was only twenty-two and aching not to have go back home when his studies were over.

“I love Texas, I love my country but it’s not the _only_ country and I don’t want to wind up like my Pa who died never having been anywhere else but to the next town to ours. My Ma was the one who pushed me to study overseas. And I want to see the world, explore new cultures, taste new food, learn languages and just live.” Jared said with a heavy sigh. “I don’t want to go home, I just want to get on another boat or train or airplane and just see where it takes me.”

“Then do it. There is nothing stopping you.”

“My Ma.”

“You just said she was the one who lit the blue touch paper.”

“Maybe I miss being looked after. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m a capable person-”

“But, you need someone.” Jensen said softly.

“Hm. I do.”

“Maybe that _someone_ isn’t your mother.” Jensen leaned back and smirked at Jared, offering him a cigarette which was declined.

“I don’t need _that_ kind of looking after.” Jared smirked, blushing to high Heaven.

“I beg to differ. I’d look after you.”

“Like you look after your wife and children.” Jared chuckled before slamming a hand over his mouth. “Oh God, forgive me. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why-”

“Because it’s playing on your mind and I don’t judge you for that.” Jensen sighed. “Listen, I don’t tell men about my personal life. To be frank, most of them don’t care but my wife was never a romantic woman or girl, she was a girl when our parents shoved us together. I was a mere boy.” He chuckled fondly. “Ivy wanted children more than she wanted romance and love, and I wanted men more than anything. So we made good of our arranged marriage, I gave her the children she dearly wanted and she gave me the freedom to be who I am. I send her money every month and we write and call sometimes. She’s happy, and so am I.”

“And your children?”

“They’re not my children, they’re hers. Two boys. Darling little things but I never wanted them, they were my gift to her.”

“It’s a strange arrangement.” Jared frowned.

“Is it? Do you really think that every couple with a house and a mortgage and rug rats are happy like those twee television shows you see?”

“I guess not.”

“It works for us. There is no _us_. Ivy is as determined and fearless with her desires as I am. Her desire was to have children without the burden of looking after a useless man.” Jensen grinned.

“And your desires?”

“Music and useless men.” Jensen laughed. 

“Am I a useless man?”

“No, you’re a very passionate, very beautiful young man.” Jensen whispered, sighing deeply as he gazed at Jared through a plume of gray smoke.

“You have so many freckles.” Jared said suddenly.

“I’ll let you count ‘em one day. I have them _everywhere_.” 

“You’re going to make me forget myself sooner rather than later.”

“No, I don’t want you to.”

“No?”

“No. Because this is new, for me.”

“New how?”

“New because I could very easily fall in love with you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jensen hadn’t enjoyed the company of a man away from physical pleasures for a very long time. Jared was engaging and confident, he knew his own mind and had his own passions. As much as he was in awe of Jensen’s talents, admitting that he owned his records, Jared wasn’t in awe of the man. It was clear he liked him but in a way more suited to crushing on the boy who delivered the bread every Saturday rather than the overtly sexual musician. There was a purity about the subtle way that Jared flirted with Jensen, simple things like listening to him talk about music without Jared possessing a desirous agenda and the gentle way he looked at Jensen, as if he would hold his heart in his hands and take care of it. Jensen thought he knew all there was know about sex but he felt like an amateur, a teen boy with no clue as to how the world of relationships worked. Jared made him feel like a boy again.

“I could spend every minute of every day talking to you.” Jensen said, one elbow resting against the table while his chin sat on his hand.

“No music?” Jared smiled, readying his scarf and coat.

“Oh, there would be music.” Jensen chuckled. “Are you going?” He frowned.

“I’m afraid I am. I have studying to do.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“No.” Jared laughed, wrapping his scarf around his neck. “But thank you for a lovely afternoon.”

“Come to the club on Friday night?” Jensen said all too quickly. “I can give you this.” He said, sliding a small card from his pocket with the clubs logo on the front. “You can get in free.”

“I see.” Jared said skeptically taking the card. “And how many men do you give these to?”

“A few.” Jensen smirked, snatching the card back. “Do you have a pen?”

“Um.” Jared frowned, patting his hands over his coat and sliding a pen out of the inside pocket, clicking it as he handed it to Jensen. “There.”

“Alright, this is my signature. Not only will you get in free but you’ll drink for free too.” 

“I feel like you’ve done this many times before.” 

“This is the first time I’ve given any one permission to use my bar tab. It’s new.”

“Oh.” Jared laughed, taking the card back from Jensen and nodding slowly. “How does it feel?”

“I like it.” Jensen grinned. 

“Well, thank you. And how about I walk you to _your_ apartment.”

“It’s only across the street.”

“So? I have to walk past there to get to mine.”

“Okay, I’ll let you do that.” 

“Let me.” Jared snorted, standing up and pulling his coat.

“You know what I mean.” Jensen laughed.

Jared walked beside Jensen as they crossed the street and the few steps along the pavement to Jensen’s apartment building which was accessible only through a heavy black wrought iron gate which lead into a dingy but beautifully decorated atrium.

“Do I get a kiss goodbye?” Jensen asked, unlocking the gate and allowing a playful smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. 

“Not here, not in public.” Jared shook his head. 

“In here then.” Jensen said, stepping sideways into the atrium. 

“Uh, well no because it’s disgusting and there is a woman staring at us.” Jared said, eyes moving to one side and toward an old woman sitting on a chair under the large spiral staircase.

“Oh, don’t worry about Mademoiselle Allemand.”

“I don’t care who she is, I’m not kissing you in front of her.”

“Bonjour, Monsieur Ackles.” Mademoiselle Allemand trilled. 

“Bonjour.” Jensen nodded.

“I’ll see you Friday, Jensen.” Jared grinned, taking a step back even though Jensen looked so delectable in the half daylight.

“You’re beautiful!” Jensen called out with a grin as Jared walked away, standing his ground and hating himself just a little for it. Jared turned around and stopped, throwing his eyes up and grinning back at Jensen then pulling his scarf around his cheeks to hide his blushes. All he could manage was an awkward wave as he turned away and swore that he could feel Jensen’s eyes upon him until he turned the corner. Jared had been right of course, Jensen couldn’t take his eyes from him for a second and even waited a few minutes just on the off chance that Jared would reappear. He didn’t.

*

As Friday rolled around, Jensen hadn’t thought about much else but Jared ever since their modest midweek lunch date. Jared had given the musician a great deal to think about in terms of how much he used sex to alleviate the loneliness he never admitted he suffered from and how companionship was something that he perhaps needed more than quick thrills and afternoon delights. Jensen dismissed the concerns that Jared was nothing more than a challenge because it wouldn’t have been the first time that Jensen had pursued a man until he wore him down, slept with him and then looked upon the conquest as an achievement. Jared was more, so much more than he had ever encountered and helped Jensen realize that writing words to music about love was difficult because he simply hadn’t felt it before. What use is experience in sex when the melody of love is so much richer.

Friday nights at ‘Le Trompettiste’ were raucous and rowdy, the space was often filled to capacity with late night standing room only but that wasn’t a worry for Jared who breezed into the club with his free pass and ushered to a table in front of the stage that Jensen had reserved for him. Jared was quietly impressed with the lengths Jensen was going to with his seduction technique. Jensen had secured Jared very easily with their first conversation but Jared wasn’t going to tell Jensen that, at least not for a little while. Being a virgin with ‘morals’ who liked men meant that Jared was determined to be sure about who he went to bed with for the first time, even though he was sure that it was likely to be Jensen.


	5. Chapter 5

Jared had sat at his table at the very moment Jensen finished his second set and looked up at the stage with a broad smile as the musician jumped down with his trumpet in one hand. The band were playing a lively tune and a small scuffle had broken out next to the table which made Jensen cower until it was broken up by the bartenders.

“It’s wild in here tonight.” Jared said, ducking himself as a flailing arm almost skimmed his head. 

“I hate it, the fights. It happens a lot with the US sailors. They go from club to bar all night and they tend to let themselves go a little too much.” Jensen chuckled, raising his voice above the music. “I hate it.”

“I’m not surprised, you’re definitely a lover rather than a fighter.” Jared grinned.

“I don’t get involved in those skirmishes. I have to protect my face.”

“Of course, we wouldn’t want to see that beautiful face bashed up, would we?” Jared smirked.

“I was talking more about my embouchure.” Jensen chuckled deeply. “But it’s good for me that you think I’m beautiful.” He said, gazing at Jared’s blushing cheeks which glowed under the soft light of the small red table lamp. 

“What is embouchure?”

“My mouth, baby. How I play. If I got into a fight with these yahoos, any damage to my face would be the end of my career.”

“So, you really do have a special mouth. Face, I mean face.” Jared mumbled, rolling his eyes as his crush on Jensen seeped out.

“Special.” Jensen nodded, setting his trumpet on the table then pouring a measure of rum into the two empty glasses in front of him. 

“What time do you play until?” Jared said, deflecting his embarrassment.

“2AM, sometimes 3AM. In the summer I’ve walked out of here at dawn before. It’s such a magical time of the day. New and fresh.” Jensen said, smiling at the memory of it.

“Don’t you get tired, being up there all night and into the early hours?”

“Exhausted some nights, but I sleep during the day. Sometimes.” Jensen grinned.

“Like a vampire.”

“Yes but with more rhythm.” Jensen chuckled. “You look very beautiful in this light.” 

“I’ve been studying all day and drinking coffee as if it was going out of fashion and-” Jared paused, noting Jensen’s wry look. “-thank you.”

“That’s better, I think you look gorgeous regardless of your hard work and coffee intake. Chill tonight, baby. I’ll play some sultry tunes to relax you.”

“Would you do that for me?” Jared asked, quite touched by the gesture.

“I would. Do you have any requests?”

“Hm.” Jared thought deeply for a few moments. “Can you sing ‘Let’s Get Lost’?”

“I can. Although it’s rather lively.”

“You can play me the gentler stuff after.” Jared hummed, sipping from his glass of rum.

“Hm, so Jared is in charge of my set list tonight, is he?” Jensen grinned, politely checking his watch.

“I feel like a VIP with the table and the free rum, so why not.”

“I like it. I’d better go blow, baby.” Jensen said, downing his drink which he simply tipped down his throat. “Kiss for luck?”

“No.” Jared laughed softly, leaning back casually against his chair. “Go blow.”

*

Jensen’s voice was incredibly sexy when he sang, that had been Jared’s initial thought. Even a lively tune like ‘Let’s Get Lost’ sounded almost sinful coming out of his mouth. Jensen barely took his eyes from Jared through the entire song which only added to the very public flirting between the two Americans. Even when another fight broke out during the end of the song, it wasn’t enough to break Jared’s gaze, although he did notice that Jensen allowed a vague frown wrinkle his forehead which lead to Jared turning to watch the fight being broken up and the pained expression of the pinned down man who seemed to be fixated on the musician. Jared brushed the altercation off as nothing more than a drink fueled rumble but Jensen left the stage the moment the song had ended, breezed past Jared as if he wasn’t there and disappeared out of the club with the restrained man. It was hardly surprising to Jared that Jensen was involved in something contentious. ‘Le Trompettiste’ was unruly at the weekends and Jensen wasn’t adverse to making inadvertent enemies of the men whom he slept with and deserted.

“I am so sorry about that.” Jensen said, breathing the words into Jared’s ear and smelling of the cold outdoors.

“It’s fine. One of your conquests?” Jared frowned.

“I didn’t promise him anything. I don’t promise any of them one damn thing.”

“Perhaps that’s a part of the problem.” Jared said, distracting himself from the doubt and slight jealousy he felt by topping up his glass with a dribble of rum.

“That’s me told.” Jensen muttered, rounding the stage and stepping up onto it. The trumpeter started to play quite abruptly and Jared could see a little confusion on the faces of Jensen’s band members as they took a few moments to catch onto joining in the with melancholy tune Jensen had started to play. Whatever had happened between the man and Jensen had rattled both he and Jared, killing the flirtatious mood between them. Music though, was always a gift and two songs down, Jensen had relaxed into it and Jared let it wash over him, losing himself in Jensen’s talent and deep green eyes.

Jensen played for forty minutes, non-stop. Barely taking a breath in between songs and dedicating each one to Jared just by singing directly at him. Jared loved the attention. Although he had always been a shy boy when meeting new people for the first time, he warmed to them quickly and no one more than Jensen; the lyrical Lothario who was singing other people’s words as if they were his own and gifting them to Jared. Jensen sang a slow, very sexy version of ‘Every Time We Say Goodbye’ which left him in a state that only Jared would have been capable of alleviating, if he had been inclined to do so. The band took a break as a record was played in their place and Jensen once again found himself at Jared’s table.

“I can’t believe that happens to you on stage. And no one says anything about it. It’s practically a sex show.” Jared said in a tone Jensen took as disapproving although it was more a case of Jared saving face and trying to ignore how painfully hard he was inside his pants. 

“As I said before, it’s not like I can help it.” Jensen shrugged casually. “I’m a red-blooded American in the prime of my life. I have needs.”

“I’ve never seen someone display their _needs_ so publically before.” Jared said seriously.

“Oh really, then how are you?” Jensen nodded at Jared’s groin, one eyebrow cocked.

“Fine.” Jared said tightly. “No one can see.”

“Come back to mine and let me fuck you tonight.” Jensen breathed.

“Jensen!” Jared gasped like a Southern belle.

“Okay, maybe not tonight, maybe-” Jensen trailed off, casting his eyes over Jared’s shoulder.

“Maybe?” Jared leaned into Jensen’s eye line. “Cussing at me in that way won’t work.”

“Hm.” Jensen muttered. Jared turned around and saw a man leaning against the bar and smirking in their direction. 

“Let me guess, another of your bed fellows?” Jared scoffed.   
“Um, okay. I’m going to call it a night.” He said as Jensen ignored him, even as the Texan gathered his coat and scarf together.

“No, stay.”

“No, look this is too much for me. You seem to have a very long, longer than I originally thought, history with a lot of men and I’m sorry but I’m not going to be one of them.” Jared sighed, standing up and blocking Jensen’s view. “You can’t even look at me.”

“Jared.” Jensen stood up, stepping around the table to stop Jared from leaving. “I just, I need to go and speak to him.”

“Then go, it’s fine.” Jared smiled tightly. “You clearly have unfinished business and I don’t really want to be a part of it. It’s been fun but, I’m sorry.”

“Please, stay.” Jensen groaned, eyes still elsewhere which lead to Jared simply slumping, turning away and walking out of the bar. Jensen made no attempt to stop him.


	6. Chapter 6

Jared had hated how he cried all the way back to his apartment that night, his overwhelming emotion was one of foolishness. Jensen had been quite plain and open about his lifestyle from the off, Jared already knew about the gay jazz musician who was resident at ‘Le Trompettiste’ and whom slept with any man breathing and willing. Jared foolishness was his belief that Jensen did think him special and beautiful and that maybe he himself was the one who could tame the beast. There had been trouble with two men in a short space of two hours, Jared didn’t want to think about what a weekend spent in the club would be like. Jensen had claimed that he had made not one promise to any of the men he used, but the two who had walked into the club that night had behaved too passionately for that to be true. No matter how hard Jared tried to grapple with his feelings for Jensen, the musician had gotten under his skin to the point of distraction. Jared knew going back to ‘Le Trompettiste’ would be romantic suicide and so threw himself in his studies and hoped that he would never see Jensen Ackles again.

Spring came with a burst of color and occasional warm days that teased Summer but no amount of sunny, cloudless days and trees full of cherry blossoms could ease Jensen’s sour mood. The mood he had been nursing ever since Jared had walked out of the club. The man who had distracted him so on that unhappy night was no one of real importance, a mere ghost of the past who had shocked Jensen with his presence and nothing more. And through that, Jensen had lost Jared. The one man who might have made a difference in his life, good difference not the hell that Jensen was going through, the hell of lost love. Jared’s absence had a profound affect on Jensen’s mental state, unequipped to deal with such intense emotions he withdrew into himself, his singing was often off-key and his passion for music waxed and waned like the tide. Jared was nowhere. Without an address nor a surname to seek out, Jared was lost in Paris and didn’t even show up when Jensen spent the first few days after that night, skulking around the café that Jared had said he loved so much. Jared had simply vanished and taken a part of Jensen with him.

In amongst the agony of it all, Jensen lost his usually relentless libido and found lyrics. Why, he wondered, that the straight up agony of finding love and losing it before an affair had ever begun would be so instrumental in his finding his musical voice was beyond him. Through the pain, Jensen wrote song after song, each one written with Jared in the forefront of his mind. At last he was able to write music and give the melody words and every night at the club he would set the songs to one side on the off chance that Jared might have given in and would just one night wander in as if no time had passed. Jensen would not play them publically, although he had practiced the songs with his band before the club opened, he refused to sing them until Jared was there. Every day they rehearsed, perfecting the tune and lyrics as Jensen hoped that would be the day that Jared would hear his song. 

“Maybe it’s time to take a break, Jen.” Maurie, Jensen’s drummer said one late Friday afternoon while they took a break from rehearsing in the empty club. “You looked burnt out.”

“Thanks.” Jensen frowned, trying to check his reflection in the shiny dome of the table lamp base which did nothing but grotesquely distort his face. 

“We’ve been working flat out here for almost year, I know the fellas wouldn’t mind a week or two off.”

“It’s not up to me, you gotta ask Jacques for that kinda time off.”

“You ain’t yourself, me an’ the fellas can see it.” Maurie sighed.   
“Is it that kid?”

“Which kid?” Jensen asked, feigning ignorance which Maurie didn’t buy for a second.

“The tall kid. Pretty.”

“Hm.” Jensen nodded.

“Frank saw him in the record store on the Rue Saint-Sébastien last week.” Maurie said casually. 

“Last week? I go in there all the time. Did he speak to him?”

“No, but he was buying some records.”

“Really, in a record store, how unusual.” Jensen smirked. “I need to find him. Damn, why didn’t Frank tell me.”

“No idea, man.”

“But he told you, so two of you knew. You both knew I’ve been off my game yet neither of you told me Frank saw him.”

“We didn’t want to get involved, your love life spills over into the music enough already, Jen.” 

“Jared is different.” Jensen snapped.

“I can see that now. You look like crap on toast, man.”

“So you said. Fuck, I need to find that kid. Why does Paris suddenly feel like the biggest city on earth?”


	7. Chapter 7

Jensen quite enjoyed the calmness of rehearsals with his band before the club opened, spending the time making notes and planning the sets for the night ahead, drinking to grease themselves up for the night ahead and filling the air above the stage with hazy silver cigarette smoke. Jensen’s band had traveled with him all over the US and none of them thought twice about following their band leader to Europe. They knew of his lifestyle and were open-minded enough to accept the residency within a gay club. No musician turned down the opportunity of regular gigs in popular haunts, even if the clientele didn’t appeal to them. Frank, Maurie and Johnny spent their time off at the beginning of the week sweet talking the ladies of Paris while their boss brooded over boys in his draughty apartment. The set up suited all four of them perfectly and made for a great dynamic on stage.

However, Jensen’s brooding had spilled onto the stage the past few weeks and the band had gotten together to tell the trumpeter to pull himself up by his bootstraps and to get his head back into the game. Jensen’s loyalty to his band was akin to that of family and so he took their warning on board and slowly stepped out of the lovelorn mist that had hung around him since Winter turned to Spring. Jensen was still stubborn about refusing to sing the songs he had written in public, his band had loved them and an album had been pitched to a record label in London. It would be Jensen’s first record of original music simply titled, ‘Jen Ackles Sings About Love’.

*

Jensen started the evening off with some gentle, soothing standards; the calm before the storm. For the first two songs, Jensen didn’t blow, instead he sat on his stool in the center of the stage with a drink in one had and cigarette in the other and crooned to his hearts content, losing himself in the music, rocking on his stool in time with the soft tisk of the drum brushes coming from behind him. Jensen hummed into the microphone and slowly opened his eyes. At first Jensen felt as if he were in a dream, the kind of deep sleep dream that is a whisker away from reality. The next line of the song evaded him as he gazed across the club. Jared smiled back at him and Jensen could have cried as he sucked up a wobble in the back of his throat and continued to sing with a little more passion in his voice.

The club applauded quietly as Jensen finished and although there were another two songs in the set to sing, he turned around to look at Frank who simply continued to play without words and nodded his permission for Jensen to leave the stage. One jump from his stool and another over the edge of the stage and Jensen was standing in front of Jared within mere seconds.

“I thought you had fallen off the edge of the Earth.” Jensen said softly, grabbing Jared’s forearms and leaning in, kissing him softly on the cheek. “I missed you.” He whispered.

“I know.” Jared said simply.

“Are you staying for the night?”

“If you want me to.” Jared nodded, behaving rather stoically, although inside his guts felt like they were being put through a blender. “I want us to talk, later. So, I can stay. I _want_ to stay.”

“Okay, I’d like that.” Jensen nodded, politely stepping to one side and placing a hand on the small of Jared’s back as he walked him to a table which was located to the side of the stage. The preppy duffle coat and wool scarf had been left at home and replaced with a fashionable short jacket with a wide band that hugged his waist and showed off his body. The atmosphere between them was one of polite excitement and although Jared knew why he was there, Jensen did not yet understand why Jared had suddenly walked back into his life after months of silence. All he could do was hope that Jared was there for reasons that might mend his breaking heart. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes, please.” Jared nodded, quickly grabbing Jensen’s wrist as the musician moved to toward the bar. “Whiskey, not rum.”

“Okay.” Jensen nodded, turning his wrist inside Jared’s hand and walking to the bar. 

Whiskey had been Jared’s close and personal friend while he had distanced himself from Jensen, he had gotten a taste for Irish coffee in Paris while needing to numb his brain from Jensen’s constant intrusion inside his head. There was no dependence, just something to keep the thoughts at bay but even after several weeks, nothing could eradicate the musician from the young students mind. Jensen returned in minutes from his trip to the bar, clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels and two glasses.

“I have to go on now, but we’ll talk later, baby.” Jensen said, tentatively filling Jared’s glass as it if were a measure of medicine. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you.” Jared nodded, removing his jacket and relaxing into his chair as Jensen took his place on the stage.

“You know-” Jensen said softly into his mic as he half sat on his stool, leaning to one side to pick up his trumpet. “-for a long time now, since I was fifteen I’ve been writing music. Melodies scribbled down on the blank edges of old newspapers, on the back of cigarette cartons. Made note of when the mood took me. Words, the lyrics that I sing four nights a week have never been mine. Maybe I used up my daily quota of words too early in the day-” He chuckled. “-but I figured out recently that there is a songwriter inside of me and that he was coaxed out by something, or rather someone who drew out something else I wasn’t on good terms with.” Jensen adjusted his mic and cleared his throat. “It was love. So I’m going to sing you a song that I wrote. It’s called ‘When I Look At Your Face’.”

Jared gulped as Jensen looked down and locked eyes with him, knowing that the song, although being played for a packed out club was meant for him and him alone.

“I hope you like it.” Jensen said, looking down at Jared as he started to sing. “When I look at your face, I don’t ever see the dark. Only the blue skies that live in your heart. I don’t ever see no, never see maybe. And that’s why boy, I know you’ll be my baby.”

Jared could do little else but gaze up at Jensen as he sang, slow and deep, each word uttered with perfect diction and conviction. The glass of whiskey in Jared’s remained untouched as Jensen continued to sing. 

“When I look at your face, I don’t ever see doubt. Only the promise that lives in your heart. I won’t hear no, don’t want to hear maybe, that’s why I know you’re meant to be my baby. When I look at your face, I ache in places. Places I want to travel with you. Don’t ever say no, don’t leave me hanging with maybe. Just say yes, say yes and be my baby.” 

Jensen took a breath, before pressing the mouth piece of his trumpet against his lips. Jared’s heart pounded inside his chest as Jensen launched into a passionate and intense solo. It was a typical sounding composition from Jensen, sexy and sultry at first but as Jared closed his eyes, he could hear a lot more than sex coming from Jensen’s lips. There was passion and desire which was unmistakable but also a wanting tone, whereby the desire wanted more than sex, it wanted love and connection. As much as Jared was enjoying the music, _his_ desire was to get Jensen alone, to tell him what he had being stewing over for so many weeks. And there was envy there because Jensen was having his say through his music, Jensen had just told Jared that he loved him.


	8. Chapter 8

Jensen’s breaks throughout the night were unlike the ones he had shared with Jared all of those weeks ago. Whereby before, Jensen used the brief time in between sets to preen and flirt, this time they barely spoke but sat closer, quietly drinking while they jointly wished the night would end so they could talk. Jared told Jensen that he loved the song and apologized for disappearing for so long, Jensen simply thanked him for helping to find his lyrics.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, that was never my intention.” Jared whispered.

“You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself.”

“Can I come back to your apartment with you tonight?”

“Yes.” Jensen nodded. “I would like that a great deal.”

That exchange had been the only real conversation they had shared, preferring to simply look at one another and hold hands under the table while Jensen sat with his head down watching his fingers slide between Jared’s as if he had been given the greatest gift of his life.

Jared was tipsy as the evening ended, even though he had made the conscious decision to pace himself, it was just after 2AM when the club closed so he had been steadily drinking since 10PM. The band were packing away and Jensen was sat on the edge of the stage as Jared joined him, cleaning the mouthpiece of his trumpet.

“You look a little worse for wear, baby.” Jensen chuckled lightly.

“I’m fine, I’ve been drinking water.” Jared nodded at the half empty carafe of water on his table as the bartenders wandered by, collecting empty glasses and placing the chairs on the tables.

“The fresh air might hit you when we go outside.”

“Jensen, baby, I’m fine.” Jared whispered and Jensen smiled to himself at the pet name, setting his trumpet inside the soft midnight blue velvet lining of its case which Jared stroked lovingly with the tips of his fingers. “It’s like its a part of you.”

“It is in a lot of ways.” Jensen smiled, waiting until Jared had moved his hand out of the way and closed the case. “Come on, let’s go home.”

*

The moment they stepped out into the fresh chill of the night, Jared took Jensen’s hand which the musician curled around Jared’s waist, pulling him against his hip until the student did the same. The streets were quiet once they had walked into a more residential part of the city and the both of them chose not say. Not say any of the things they had been wanting to speak about ever since Jared turned up at the club. They did little else but enjoy the silence of Paris in the wee small hours and the warmth of their bodies as they walked pressed together as if their hips had been joined, never to be parted.

Jensen unlocked the gate which lead into the atrium of his apartment building which creaked and squeaked as he opened it. Jared stepped inside and walked toward the foot of the spiral staircase. 

“Which floor are you on?”

“The very top.”

“Heavens-” Jared started.

“Yes, I live in the heavens.” Jensen grinned, walking behind Jared as they walked up the stairs.

“I meant to say, heavens you must find it a difficult climb after a long night at the club.”

“No, I have the most comfortable bed known to man, it’s always enough to help me find the energy to drag myself up there.” Jensen laughed, his voice echoing around the walls.

“It’s prettier the higher you get.” Jared remarked.

“Heaven.” Jensen said, passing Jared on the stairs and unlocking his apartment door which he held open for Jared. “Welcome to heaven.”

Jared stepped inside the small room where there was a large brass bed frame only a foot away from the door. The bed was unmade which didn’t surprise Jared one bit but for some reason, the way the sheets hung over the mattress and plump deep pink satin comforter was situated just made him think of Jensen waking there every morning with sun shining across his body. The floorboards were bare and creaked as Jared ventured further into the room, stepping into a sliver of silver moonlight which cut a pretty dash across the floor.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” Jensen said, quietly closing the door as Jared walked toward two doors which lead out onto a small balcony.

“May I?” Jared asked, placing his hands on the door knobs and glancing over his shoulder Jensen.

“Be my guest.”

“Oh goodness, what a view.” Jared gasped, pushing the doors open which caused the thin white voile drapes to flutter. 

“What a view indeed.” Jensen said, leaving his shoes by the door and removing his coat which was laid over a chair that sat in front of his busy desk by the window.

“You can see all of Paris. It’s beautiful.” Jared sighed, marveling at the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower as Jensen came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Jared’s waist and chest.

“Jared.” Jensen whispered, hands pressing against Jared’s body. “Please tell me you came back because you want me.”

“I did.” Jared turned around in Jensen’s arms, slowly enough to indicate without words that he didn’t want Jensen to let go.  
“I was so stupid.” Jared groaned.

“Don’t. You weren’t.” Jensen whispered as Jared wrapped his arms around his neck.

“I was, I was so dumb. I shouldn’t have thought you incapable of changing. It was immature of me but those men, I saw green and-”

“I meant what I said, baby. I’ve never lied to you about my past, I never lied to them either. I always made my intentions quite plain, just like I am with you.”

“And what are you intentions toward me?”

“Honorable. I love you.” Jensen sighed because his stomach flipped so violently he couldn’t quite believe it. “Don’t ever say no, don’t leave me hanging with maybe. Just say yes, say yes and be my baby.” He sung softly.

“Did you really write that for me?”

“I did. I wrote an albums worth of songs for you.” 

“Oh God, I love you too, Jensen.” Jared gasped, pressing his mouth against Jensen’s lips and keeping them there until the musician lead them into a deep, passion fueled kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

“Can I take you to bed?” Jensen huffed the words into Jared’s mouth as he pressed him against the door frame, their legs tangling around the long floaty voile drapes.

“Yes, I want you to. I wanted you to from the moment I first saw you.” 

“I’m pleased that your strong morals stopped you-”

“Jensen, it wasn’t morals, baby. It was, so many things. I was scared, I still am but more than that, I wanted you to fall in love with me. I didn’t want to be another of your men, I wanted you to want to keep me. To wake up the next day and look at me while I slept and think ‘I never want to be with another living soul’. I wanted sex, I _want_ sex but I so wanted it to be entwined with love.”

“God, I want to give you fucking _everything_ , baby.”

“Let me give you something of mine first.” Jared said, throwing his eyes toward the bed then kissing Jensen roughly as they edged across the room, pulling at clothes and belts as they barely broke the wet and greedy kiss. Jensen tripped over their clothes which made Jared chuckle against his mouth as they crashed onto the bed in their underwear. 

“You have a lovely warm body.” Jensen said, grabbing Jared’s waist and pushing him up the bed then sliding his hand over the waistband of his underwear and pulling it away from his body before taking a peek inside. “Good God.” He said, head snapping in Jared’s direction. “You’re _very_ well-endowed.”

“Jensen, you don’t have to be polite with me.” Jared chuckled, sucking his tummy in as Jensen’s fingers brushed over it. “Be yourself. I’m not some backward farm boy from the sticks, I mean I am a farm boy from the sticks, but I’m _very_ forward.”

“I thought you were shy.” Jensen smirked, pushing Jared’s boxers over his cock and inhaling deeply.

“No, cautious. Now say what you really want to say and blow me.”

“You have a big, a very very large, fucking delicious dick.”

“God, your foul mouth sends me.” Jared sighed. “But that wasn’t hard, was it?” He breathed, body twitching with anticipation as Jensen wetted his lips.

“No, but this is.” Jensen muttered, eyes fixed on Jared’s cock which bobbed over an unkempt mass of soft pubic hair which turned Jensen on even more as he leaned over and kissed the wet tip then idly licked at his lips. Jared gasped softly, letting out a quiet ‘ _Ahhh_ ’ which was all Jensen needed to hear. The musician glanced at Jared as he sucked the smooth head of his cock into his mouth and slowly slid his lips down until his face was buried in Jared’s curls and the pronounced ridge of his cock head had filled his throat.

Jared shifted against the feather mattress which had already molded around his body as relaxed into it, spreading his legs which felt natural if vaguely whoreish. Jensen seemed to like it and noted it as he suckled deeply around Jared’s cock as the long drawn out ‘ _Ahhh’s_ ’ kept coming and he used one soft, warm hand to hold Jared’s left thigh open, pinning it into the mattress. The wet sound Jensen’s warm mouth made as he sucked sent shivers down Jared’s spine and as much as the young man wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the sensation, he couldn’t help but lift his head from the pillow and watch as Jensen’s cheeks hollowed out, the way his head bobbed and even though his eyes closed, Jensen was enjoying every second. Jared could feel his cock filling with blood, sure that it would burst as he stiffened completely inside Jensen’s mouth, his cock shifting only to pump out desperate dribbles of clear salty precome which disappeared down Jensen’s throat.

“Oh God.” Jared whispered, his soft breathy moans becoming deeper and more visceral as Jensen screwed his mouth around his cock, sucking and pulling and lightly shaking his head but never once losing the tight grip he had around it. As his climax neared, Jared found himself arriving at that point of arousal where the mind plays tricks and makes people yell out ‘ _I would let you do anything now!_ ’. Jared’s legs parted until they hurt and his hips started to move up and down back into the soft mattress. Jensen pinned him, pressing a hand against his stomach to keep him there, drawing out the sensation for just a few moments more until Jared was gasping and moaning into the pillow beside him as he came. Jensen sucked so hard it felt as if Jared was having the come sucked out of him. “Oh sweet Jesus, Jensen.” He whined, pulling one leg up until his knee was pressed into chest and covering his eyes with his hand as he almost sobbed with how intense the orgasm was. Air was suddenly cooling his cock as Jensen pulled off, clearing his throat and slowly moving up the bed, one hand pawing at Jared’s fingers.

“Are you there? Jensen chuckled deeply, his voice deep and throaty. 

“I think so.” Jared whined, moving onto his side and curling up into Jensen’s body which the musician fell in love with instantly. “Baby.” He sighed, writhing into Jensen’s personal space and clinging onto his body. “You have such a clever mouth.” He whispered. Jared’s body was completely limp against Jensen’s which felt warm in places and cool in others as the gentle pre dawn Spring breeze came in through the open balcony doors. 

“Would you like to sleep? It’ll be light soon.” Jensen whispered, playing with Jared’s pretty hair while holding him like the precious thing he was against his chest.

“What about you?” Jared mumbled, kicking at the comforter at the foot of the bed and attempting to lift it with one foot. Jensen chuckled and reached down, taking Jared with him then lifted the heavy feather comforter over them both.

“We have all day, baby.” Jensen smiled, pressing a kiss into Jared's hair which smelled of the outdoors.

“Alright. All day and we can make love. Make love to me, Jensen.” Jared said tiredly. “Promise, tomorrow you’ll do it.”

“I promise.” Jensen sighed.


	10. Chapter 10

Jared hadn’t woken up to a view before, his own apartment and its only window looked out at the apartments across the street and certainly he had never had a choice of views. From the bed, Jared could see the Eiffel Tower, just the edge of it or all of it if he had been inclined to move to the edge of the bed but the real view the room had to offer was that of Jensen, stood naked at the counter of the apartments small kitchenette. The room was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and had been the reason why Jared had woken.

“Good morning.” Jared said sleepily, sitting up on one elbow and rubbing an eye with a closed fist.

“Good morning, baby.” Jensen grinned, bringing over two cup of rich, dark coffee and setting them both on the single nightstand next to the bed. Jared however couldn’t drag his eyes away from Jensen’s body.

“I didn’t get to look at you properly last night.” Jared said, moving back as Jensen climbed onto the bed and smothered him with his body. “You have _a lot_ of freckles.” He breathed. “Are they-” Jared swung his eyes south then flicked them back up at Jensen who was grinning broadly.

“Check and see.” 

“Oh God.” Jared bit his lip as Jensen moved back onto his knees, his cock was semi hard and hanging heavy over his sizable balls. “You do.” He whispered, the tip of his finger tracing through the freckles peppered over Jensen’s dick. “You know, I was half expecting you to wake up with your tongue some place sinful.”

“I was tempted but you’d had a lot to drink last night and I wanted to be sure that anything we did this morning was legitimate.”

“I was aware of _everything_ we did last night. But thank you and next time, put your tongue someplace sinful.” Jared chuckled, blushing and falling back into the mattress with a soft giggle.

“I will make a note of that.” Jensen smirked, grabbing Jared’s coffee and handing him the cup. 

“What’s the time?”

“A little after 10AM.” Jensen said, settling against the foot of the bed with his own cup. 

“How long do I have you for?”

“We have hours, baby. Hours to get to know one another.”

“Good.” Jared seemed to like that answer and responded by smiling to himself and twisting his body into the comfort of the bed.

“You know, you’re a very good kisser for a boy with no experience.” 

“I’m not a boy and if you remember, I said that I’m a virgin, I never said I hadn’t kissed anyone before.”

“Ah, so there has been other men?”

“One. Just one, in Cambridge.”

“England?”

“Yes.”

“And how does an Englishman compare to an American in Paris?” Jensen smirked.

“You get to see me naked, he didn’t.” Jared grinned letting his eyes wander to behind Jensen. “Heavens, you own a lot of records.” He said, sitting up with a slack jaw. Jensen looked over his shoulder at the floor to ceiling wall of records which surrounded a small record player and a pair of headphones.

“I do. I like to listen to music as much as I enjoy creating it.”

“Oh.” Jared gasped. “Can you show me the other songs you wrote please?”

“Of course.” Jensen chuckled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed but taking a little time to lean over Jared, kissing him slow and easy before lifting the comforter and taking a quick peak. “Hm, I’m going to eat you all up later.” He grinned and moved off the bed, wandering over to his desk and grabbing a handful of loose leaves from a writing pad. “Some are just scribbles, a few are fully formed.” Jensen said, rejoining Jared on the bed and setting the paper down next to him.

“Did I really inspire you to find your words?” Jared sat up, leaning across the bed and setting his cup down before leafing through the loose pages of lyrics.

“Oh yeah, I think I found my words the moment you walked into the club.” Jensen said, laying naked on top of the comforter and wrapping himself around Jared’s body.

“These are just beautiful. Do you have the music for them too?”

“For some, yes.” Jensen nodded, carefully removing the pages from Jared’s hand and coaxing him back into the feather mattress.

“Jensen.” Jared whispered, stretching his arms above his head and wrapping his hands around the top of the brass bed frame. He threw his head back as Jensen kissed over his neck, body rolling and one hand lifting the comforter so he could slip underneath and feel Jared against him. “I feel nervous.” He muttered, meeting Jensen’s mouth with his own.

“I won’t hurt you.”

“Are you going to-” Jared started, groaning at just how perfect Jensen felt against his skin. “-are you going to-”

“Fuck you?” Jensen said plainly then nodded. “Hm, I am.”

“God.” 

“Close but my name is Jensen.”

“Ass.” Jared giggled, biting his lip as Jensen moved down the bed leaving wet lip prints over his body. Jensen flipped the comforter off the bed, tutting in vague annoyance as the corner flicked back over his head. Jared laughed softly, grabbing a handful of the bed cover and dumping it on the floor.

“Better.” Jensen grinned wickedly, all teeth as he kissed and nibbled Jared’s lower stomach and eventually slotted himself between Jared’s open legs. “Wow.” He whistled, sliding his hands hands up and down the students long, muscular limbs. “You have perfect pins, baby. But-” He started, slowly easing Jared’s thighs back to reveal his ass hole. “-this is what I’m after.”

“My God.” Jared gulped, feeling a heated wave of embarrassment wash over his body which came out as a bloom of color which almost lifted from his cheeks. “If my father could see me now.” He mumbled.

“Oh dear.” Jensen chuckled, lifting his head a little to frown at Jared. “Keep _those_ thoughts to yourself for the duration, baby boy.”

“Oh God, baby boy.” Jared whined and then melted as Jensen’s soft, wet tongue lapped over his ass hole. A place so inherently forbidden in the world Jared had come from that the act deepened his blush so much the boy broke out in an instant sweat.


	11. Chapter 11

With nothing to compare Jensen’s skills to, Jared could do little else but lie back and allow the musician to do whatever he wanted. Despite his feeling nervous and somewhat trepidatious, Jensen was so good, so skillful and so perfectly sexual that Jared’s worries petered out with every soft hand massaging his stomach and every firm, exploratory lick of Jensen’s tongue which sent crackles of pleasure to his cock as it laid over his groin, twitching and leaking and every so often lifting with vested interest from his body. Jensen slowly raised his head from between Jared’s thighs and sucked on his left index finger. Jared nodded, silent permission given even though his body tensed at the anticipated intrusion.

“What does it feel like?” Jared whispered.

“Like nothing you have ever known.” Jensen said, resting his lightly bristled chin against Jared’s thigh and pushing his wet finger inside him. Jared’s body resisted at first, virtually shutting down but it was too late and the involuntary action did nothing but tighten the grip around Jensen’s finger. “Relax.” He muttered, mouth open and dragging his lips over Jared’s inner thigh which made young man shudder and sink into the bed. 

Jensen kept to a slow pace, a simple in/out and occasional twist, watching intently as Jared fully gave in. The younger man closed his eyes and gradually felt his hips moving in time with Jensen’s finger, his cock thickened even more and his nipples stiffened and pebbled. So lost at that point was Jared that the sudden cold sensation dribbling between his legs made him snap his eyes open in surprise.

“Just a little KY.” Jensen said deeply.

“Okay.”

“Hm, two. Okay?” 

“Yes.” Jared nodded and barely noticed as he was stretched open a fraction more but as he did, his mind threw up intrusive racing thoughts; how could anything so delicious be a sin of the flesh? Why are men like he and Jensen so reviled? What would my father think? God could never deny any human such pleasure. Why give us the ability if it was so wrong? 

Jared let out a deep, throaty whine which gave Jensen pause because he never heard such a sexual, almost animal sound come from another living soul before. The noise practically vibrated around Jensen’s dick and the both of them found themselves at that point of no return that lovers experience. Jensen growled at the shift in sexual tension between them and pushed a third finger alongside the two holding Jared open. The young man had gone utterly slack and looked like he was being consumed not only by Jensen but the soft bed underneath him. 

“Now.” Jared muttered. It was too soon, too soon for a man of experience let alone a virgin who had only ever kissed a boy before but Jensen, despite his slight hesitation moved onto his knees, yanked his fingers out from Jared’s ass hole and pulled the boys ass onto his lap. 

“Too big.” Jensen mumbled, head down with his cock in his hand which felt like fat fleshy rod of iron in his palm as he jabbed at Jared’s ass hole.

“No, I need to feel you inside me.” Jared whined, almost aggressive as he jabbed back with his hips.

“Open everything. Your body and your mind. Let me in.” Jensen whispered, breaching the very tight ring of muscle which was just slick enough to swallow down the head of Jensen’s cock.

Jared gulped so loudly that Jensen heard it but there was nothing about the young mans face nor body language that was begging for anything other than the entirety of Jensen’s cock. Both were so desperate to get there, to join together that normal practices of comfort and care were swept to one side as it took mere seconds for Jensen to bottom out. Jared’s silver eyes, usually so fox-like and ethereal grew like two full moons and his upper body was suddenly slick with sweat. “Okay.” Jensen groaned, changing their position as he moved over Jared’s body and they wrapped themselves around one another.

“Don’t move. Not just yet.” Jared said, lips brushing over Jensen’s ear as they held onto one like their lives depended on it. “Stay like this.”

“I’ve got you.” Jensen nodded, turning his head and finding himself nose to nose with a dumbstruck sweaty boy with a red face and a heart that was beating so fast it was drumming through Jensen’s ribcage. “I love you.”

“Hm.” Jared nodded, cupping Jensen’s freckled cheek. “I love you.” He nodded again then slowly pushed down onto Jensen’s cock, coaxing the musician to move. “Just a bit. Just a little bit.”

“Like this?” Jensen said, pressing his toes into the mattress for purchase and deepening his cock inside Jared with a firm roll of his hips. 

“Yes.” 

“And this?” Jensen said, repeating the movement but then holding himself as deep as he could go and twitching inside Jared’s tight, soft warmth.

“Yes.” Jared gasped, kissing Jensen so deeply that his trapped dick between their bodies pulsed and dribbled at just the feeling of Jensen’s soft, clever mouth against his own. They instinctively kept to a slow but deep pace, kissing in between groans which came from a place of disbelief and that new feeling of deep love. Jensen could not stop thinking about how sex via love felt so much more erotic than one night wonders and messy fumbles backstage. There was no one else, not any more, not now that he had Jared and the appreciation for the young mans very existence drew out tears of unprecedented joy from the musician who had believed that he was unlovable.

“It’s just you, Jared.” Jensen said, his tone softer than he had ever heard himself speak. “Tell me you love me.” He whispered, hips rolling deep and slow but with a vague urgency that meant only one thing. “Tell me you love me and I’ll leave a part of myself inside you.”

“I-I love you.” Jared gasped as he Jensen twisted his hips. “God, I love you. I love you.”

“Yes, you do. You love me so fucking hard, baby.” Jensen hissed, losing his mind to depths of irreversibility as he came with a violent pulse which shattered through his body and made him sob with the insanity of it all. Jensen pressed his forehead against Jared’s clavicle and his body stiffened until his legs started to cramp which he was able to ignore as Jared’s long fingers pushed into his thick dirty blonde hair. 

“I love you.” Jared gasped, shuddering against Jensen’s taut body as the musicians release flooded his insides with a gentle wave of warmth. Jensen slumped, melted over Jared’s body and laid their until their sweat soaked bodies cooled.


	12. Epilogue

_London, England, Summer 1963_

The Café de Paris in London’s Piccadilly Circus was the final destination of Jensen’s tour of the US and Europe. Three years ago a residency had felt like the better option but with the release of his record for lovers and the subsequent popularity of the album, Jensen felt that putting himself out there for those who had bought it was the least he could have done. Jensen was determined that the tour didn’t feel like a slog, dashing from one country to the next and not allowing himself see nothing of the world. Paris had given him more than he had ever imagined and as he rehearsed with his loyal band members on the stage of the exclusive London night club, he smiled down at the young man who had been gifted to him by the universe.

Jared looked up from over his glasses, busy himself, tapping away at the keys of his portable typewriter. He smiled back at Jensen who mouthed ‘ _I love you_ ’ at his successful music journalist boyfriend. The couple went everywhere together, from tours to studio recordings, to meetings with new pop stars and concerts that Jared was required to review. When Jared’s European studies ended in the Fall of 1960, Jensen closed the contract with ‘Le Trompettiste’ and left his band behind to join Jared for his visit home to Texas. The musician was in need of some R & R and Jared, although cautious was keen to introduce Jensen to his mother. There was no doubt that Jared and Jensen’s union ruffled Mrs. Padalecki’s feathers but she quietly accepted her sons lifestyle, even if she admitted that she wouldn’t tell anyone else about it. ‘ _I’ll say you married a pretty French girl, Jensen can be our secret_ ’. It wasn’t ideal but it had been better than the alternative and Jared had made peace with his sexuality and accepted the prejudice that surrounded it. Jared was able to persuade Jensen to visit his sons and to check in with Ivy who hadn’t seen her husband for almost four years. Jensen bonded with the boys and slowly he and Jared became uncles to the children. Jensen learned to love the boys he had helped bring into the world but no one loved them quite as much as their tough, devoted mother.

Paris would be their next stop on the Lovers Tour, going back to the place they had met and retracing the memories of the first months of their heady romance played out with the backdrop of the world’s most romantic city. Jensen was calling it a honeymoon because as far as they were concerned, they were as married as Lucy and Desi. Jensen never stopped writing love songs and dedicated every last one to the young man who taught him that love is for everyone, even those who think they don’t deserve it.

_La fin_


End file.
